


Wants and needs, my dear, can be very much the same

by kingslayersrogue



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: College!AU, F/M, I cannot guarantee quality, Modern Setting, Smut, Tattoos, This took me for fucking ever, of the mild variety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 03:49:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12356823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingslayersrogue/pseuds/kingslayersrogue
Summary: “Lemme see, lemme see, lemme see,  let me see!!”  He’d barely made it to his door, hadn’t even gotten his key out before she was taking him by the back of his shirt and dragging him into her apartment. She begins tugging on his T-shirt like a child asking for attention and it makes him laugh. Abby scowls at him and gives him a not so good-natured punch on the arm before resuming her attempts to remove his shirt.----Or the one where Marcus gets a new tattoo and Abby (His best friend) can't wait to see it but they both end up getting a lot more than they bargained for.





	Wants and needs, my dear, can be very much the same

**Author's Note:**

> FULL DISCLAIMER!! I suck at writing smut, this shit will prove it BUT I'm trying. You can't really blame me tho? For obvious reasons.

“Lemme see, lemme see, lemme see,   _ let me see!!” _  He’d barely made it to his door, hadn’t even gotten his key out before she was taking him by the back of his shirt and dragging him into  _ her  _ apartment. She begins tugging on his T-shirt like a child asking for attention and it makes him laugh. Abby scowls at him and gives him a not so good-natured punch on the arm before resuming her attempts to remove his shirt. “Aren’t you supposed to at least buy me a drink before undressing me?” The hem of his shirt stops just under his crossed arms, the fabric bunched tightly in her hands. “I’ve bought you plenty of drinks now take it off,  _  I want to see!” _

When Marcus had first told her about his plan on getting another tattoo she’d been very hesitant, almost rejecting the idea. Warning him about all the risks involved and very  _ pointedly  _ (no pun intended) reminding him of his deep fear of needles. She liked his other tattoos, the small yet intricate geometric patterns on his right shoulder, the delicately scrawled  _ but without the dark, we’d never see the stars _ he’d gotten done at the base of his neck. It was one of her favorites and she’d always trace the lettering whenever she got the chance, soft fingers just skimming his skin and making him shiver.

It had taken some coaxing, and a lot of time picking out a suitable design, she was his best friend and if she didn’t think the design was good he didn’t want it permanently etched into his skin. They’d settled on something after a week of deliberations on his or her couch with free-flowing music and snacks, flipping through images and recounting memories. Another tug on his shirt breaks him from his thoughts and back to her. “Marcus, stop being an ass and let me see.”

“Stop whining and acting like a baby first,” he jokes but she gives him a look that makes him want to turn tail and run. “No,” she says, and just to get back at him she moves her hand to his side and tickles the spot that never fails to make him hunch over in a fit of laughter and ultimate pleading. Eventually, she wrestles the garment off him and gasps when the inked skin is uncovered.

The trunk of an oak tree, he loved oak trees, runs up his spine from the middle of his back. Leaves seem to scatter and drift from the branches, some on some off. To him, it’s the cycle of life, death, and rebirth. When the time comes, leaves fall and lay to rest being swept up and carried to be reclaimed by the Earth. Their life is given back to the soil and absorbed by the trunk,  _ the heart, _ and new leaves grow. Healthy and alive until the cycle repeats. 

She traces her hands along one of the roots, her finger moving with the twisting turning lines until it reaches high into the branches the back down again, in a never-ending loop. “If you like tattoos so much, why don’t you have any of your own?” He asks, craning his neck to look her in the eye. She hums and keeps tracing the lines, not noticing the way his muscles twitch and the slight shivers running up and down his spine. “I just like yours, they’re….. _ better. _ ” He can feel the whisper of her breath against his neck, goosebumps prick at the affected skin. Her name tumbles off his lips in a breathless whisper, overcome with sensation. These things he’s feeling,  _ thinking, _ they’re not new but still put him in a state of half desire half self-disgust.  _ There are certain ways one does not think about their friends.  _

She whispers his name in the same tone and he goes hot all over. Her fingers move back up his spine to the lettering on his neck, tracing the curves before moving to the patterns on his shoulder. Going down his arm and skating along the veins resting beneath the flushed skin. Stopping at the date inked onto his inner wrist. She kisses the skin and he jolts, forcing her eyes up to his.   


For a moment she’s scared, scared that she crossed a line, but the dark eyes boring into her tell a different story. One that makes desire coil low in her belly and her own eyes flash the same swirling emotions. She places a hand on his chest, stopping closer and feeling the heat radiating off his skin. His heart thumps beneath her palm, her hand moving with each heave of his chest. “Abby…” She tips her head up and matches the intensity of his gaze. One of his hands tentatively comes to rest  _ respectfully  _ on her waist, he questions everything he does in her presence,  _ always so calculating. _ He doesn’t let anything slip and she nearly missed the way his eyes had been dropping to her lips more and more in the last few weeks. 

She wanted him to lose that control, break down those walls  _ for her. _

She entwines their fingers and moves his hand  _ lower, _ loving the startled gasp he lets out. With one final step, she eliminates the last shred of distance between them. The heat of his skin burns through the material of her top, an electric current passing back and forth between their bodies.

_ The barest of touches setting them aflame. _

Their labored breaths mingle in the limited space between their lips, but it’s as if her proximity has put him in a state of catatonia. He doesn’t move, doesn’t crash his mouth against her to kiss her the way she hoped he would. It takes three words in the softy sultry voice of hers to snap him out of it. “ _ I want you.” _

The dam breaks, the walls crack, and Marcus Kane does the thing he’s wanted to do for far longer than he’d ever care to admit. His kiss isn’t gentle by any means,  _ she wouldn’t want it any other way.  _ Hot and hard, tongue demanding entrance to her mouth and she gladly consents, sucking an almost fruity taste off his tongue. He moans at the feeling, almost desperate sounding and tangles his fingers in the long strands of her honey brown hair. 

She  _ needs _ to feel the heat of his skin on her own, so, stepping back she crosses her arms and slips her top over her head. Shock is written clearly on his face, like someone receiving an unexpected gift. Her skin is flushed yet impossibly soft as his hands ghost down her sides, stopping at her waist to pull her back to him. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says it with such awe and adoration in his tone that she surges forward to kisses him, inadvertently knocking them both onto the couch. She lands in his lap, feeling his hardening length press into her core. She hisses at the small waves of pleasure coursing through her, tipping her head back. Marcus takes the chance and his lips attack her neck. Kissing and licking at the sensitive skin, almost homing in on the one spot that never ceases to draw his name from her lips. 

_ I’ll never get tired of her saying my name, _ he thinks and kisses the spot again. His hands move over the skin of her back, dipping lower and lower as he grows bolder. His eyes are questioning as he brushes against the clasp of her bra, she nods and kisses him tenderly as the fabric falls away from her body. The sound he makes at the first sight of her bared chest could only be described as a whimper. “So. Fucking.Beautiful.” He punctuates each word with a kiss to her chest, tracing a line in between her breasts before sucking a hardened bud into his eager mouth. She cries out at the sensation of his mouth on her nipple, sucking and teasing it with his tongue. 

She rocks against him and he groans into her flesh. She does it again, swallowing his responding moan with a deep kiss. It’s all so much,  _ yet not enough. _ Her hands fly to his belt, fumbling with it in haste. He pushes them away, standing up and stumbling towards her bed. 

He divests her of her pants and underwear quickly before climbing on top of her. The solid weight of him enveloping her, blocking out everything but him. She arches up, rubbing herself against him. The sound he makes send shocks of pleasure through her body. 

She reaches down again, hands trailing slowly over the smooth skin of his chest. Thumbs grazing over his nipples and making him shiver.  They travel lower still, tracing along the waist of his jeans. Just the tips of her fingers running along the soft, tan skin. “I want to touch you,” she whispers, nipping at his earlobe. He moans a helpless needy sound that sets her on fire. “Do you want me to touch you, Marcus?” She asks, having no idea where this sudden confidence came from. Maybe it’s the way his breath is coming in pants or the impossible darkness of his eyes. Maybe it’s the desperate  _ please _ that falls from his lips. Or maybe,  _ maybe _ it’s the undeniable fact that Marcus Kane, her  _ best _ friend, wants her as much as she wants him. 

She flips them over, chuckling lightly at his surprised gasp. With deliberate slowness her hands move down his chest, nails scraping and teasing at the heated skin. She shuffles back across his body, hands resting at the snap of his jeans. She raises a challenging brow before popping them open and sliding the fabric down his legs. 

His erection presses against the fabric of his boxers and she let her gaze run over his now (nearly) bared body.  She kisses him through the thin cotton and he lets out a broken whimper, hands fisting at the sheets beneath him.  “Abby,” he moans as she slowly moves the underwear down his legs. 

He’s bigger than she thought, and the realization doesn’t bring forth any shock like she expected it too. She  _ had _ thought about this. Instead, she just feels delicious thrills of arousal shoot through her, a smirk already playing on her lips. Her hand wraps around him with a firm grip, stroking up and down, and he  _ shatters. _

Utterly overwhelmed by sensation. Not solely because of the stimulation but because it’s _her_. It’s Abby Griffin, his best friend and most secret desire _touching_ him. “Abby, _please,”_ he moans, eyes screwed shut in exquisite agony. “Please what, Marcus?” She hums, laying open-mouthed kisses all over his abdomen. “I...I... _please,”_ he starts, but can’t seem to finish. She slides up his body, cradling his face in her hands and kissing him slowly. She trails kisses along his jaw, stopping just below his ear to pull it between her teeth. “Tell me what you want Marcus, anything.” 

“You. I need  _ you, _ ” he gasps as she sinks down onto him. Moaning at the  _ perfect _ way he fills her. He surges up, wrapping his arms tightly around her body and kissing her passionately. The action causes him to press deeper inside her and she gasps into his mouth. Clutching at his shoulders as he begins to slowly swirl his hips. “Oh God, Marcus,” she exclaims breathlessly, printing sloppy kisses all over his neck and face. 

They continue to rock together for what feels like minutes and hours at the same time. Edging closer and closer to release with every gasp moan and sigh. “Marcus, please I...I need,” he cuts off the rest of her sentence with a kiss, sliding a hand between them to rub tight circles around her clit. Sending her over the edge with a gasping cry of his name. The feeling of her clenching around him sends him over too, bursting deep inside her as he shudders and sighs. Head dropping down to rest in the crook of her neck. She stays panting on top of him until the sweat cools on their bodies. Forcing her to roll off of him and burrow into his side, letting him pull the blankets tight around them.

He doesn’t feel any of the shame you’d expect from sleeping with your best friend. Neither of them do, instead, he feels happy. Inexplicably and ridiculously happy. Marcus presses one more kiss to her forehead before falling asleep with Abby Griffin’s head pillowed on his chest. 

**Author's Note:**

> Be gentle but if it sucked tell me so I know not to keep trying lmao


End file.
